


Massaging the Day Away

by edlweiss



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Lesbians in Space, Massage, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, maybe some fluff if you squint, thirsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edlweiss/pseuds/edlweiss
Summary: Yaz is in desperate need of anything to help her relieve the pain in her back. The Doctor lends a hand.
Relationships: The Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 94





	Massaging the Day Away

Yaz twisted her neck to the side, grimacing at the soreness that flared in her shoulder muscles and down her back. All the tension of the day’s trials refused to leave her. She exhaled resignedly. This wasn’t going to be a fun night’s sleep. If there was any sleep. Yaz highly doubted that. She clutched at the back of her neck, and then let her hand drop to her side. It was useless. She stood at the Tardis console in her pajamas, an old tank top and comfy shorts. She stared into her tea, resting on the edge of the console. 

The Doctor watched her companion carefully from the darkened hallway – the time lord had come back to the main console room to run a program she had forgotten earlier, remembering only when she was finally headed to her bedroom after this obscenely long day. All the others had trudged to bed hours ago. 

She could see the pain the younger woman was in, and she felt compelled to help. She hated to see any of them in distress. The Tardis had dimmed the lights and only a pulsating burnished orange glow lit the space, clearly trying to put Yaz at ease.

“Yaz?” she questioned, not wanting to startle. Yaz jumped anyway. She turned to face the Doctor.

“Oh. Hiya. Sorry, I thought maybe some tea would help me relax. But so far, no such luck,” her hand started to drift up to her neck, but she stopped and her hand flopped back down, sighing again.

The Doctor walked to her and Yaz froze when she kept coming, stopping very close to her. The Doctor never usually allowed herself to be this near to Yaz, knowing the effect the younger woman could have on her. She was so distracting, so vibrant, the Doctor sometimes found it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. But this was different. Yaz was hurt. 

Her eyes roamed over Yaz’s face, drifting down to her neck and shoulders. 

“Looks like today did a number on you,” she said, lightly touching the back of Yaz’s neck and rubbing ever so faintly. Yaz winced, more from the expectation of pain then anything the Doctor caused. The Doctor could feel the tendons there, stretched taut and unyielding. She frowned. 

“Yeah, I think vaulting over that one wall, and then landing weird, my back is a bit angry with me,” Yaz pouted. The Doctor focused on Yaz’s lips for a brief second.

“Wait there one moment while I do this last thing, and then we’ll get you sorted.” She stepped over to the console, twisting a few buttons and peering at a screen she tilted towards herself. She nodded and moved back to Yaz’s side.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” she turned and headed off into the corridor, her coat billowing out behind her, and Yaz followed her dutifully. They moved in silence through the Tardis halls, eventually coming to Yaz’s bedroom door.

The Doctor pushed through and kept her eyes studiously ahead when she said her next words. “What you need is a proper massage. You know the Venusians developed more than their own martial arts? Havin’ five arms comes in handy when working on stiff joints. Know tons about pressure points, that lot. They showed me a few things that I think’ll help you.” She shook off her coat and peeled her braces down so they hung loose at her sides as she chattered, and kicked her boots off, climbing onto the bed and spreading her legs, settling and shifting a bit before finally looking at Yaz. She patted the space between her knees as they angled out and flopped in an open horseshoe position. 

Yaz was rooted where she stood, a faint look of apprehension on her face. Sometimes the Doctor could be a bit, well, overzealous. Then again, she’d get an extended period of time nestled right up against the time lord, which was definitely something Yaz could get on board with. She stepped over and scooted onto the bed. She turned her back to the Doctor, careful not to press her hips too fully between the other woman’s thighs. Yaz’s legs dangled off the edge of the bed.

The Doctor closed her eyes briefly and steadied herself. This may have been a miscalculation on her part. She could smell the faint scent of Yaz’s shampoo, and she had to stop herself from leaning in and touching her thick dark hair. Yaz had it up so she had an unfettered view of her neck, lovely as it was. She could see the small hairs there and wanted very badly to plant a kiss at the join of her shoulder. Yes, probably a miscalculation.

There was a mirror off center at the foot of the bed, and Yaz stared at their reflection. She saw the Doctor close her eyes and Yaz swallowed audibly. The Doctor’s eyes opened and darted to the mirror, doing a double take when she saw Yaz watching her. She smiled breezily and brought her hands up to Yaz’s shoulders, resting them there.

“I’m good at this, promise. Do you trust me?” The Doctor spoke to their reflection. Yaz nodded almost before she had finished speaking.

“Of course I do, Doctor.” She patted the Doctor’s bare knee, her trousers having shifted up slightly. Her leg was cool and Yaz, somewhat brazenly, left her hand there. It was the Doctor’s turn to swallow.

“Right. Off we go then. Take a deep breath for me and let it out slowly, Yaz,” The Doctor said, moving her fingers in slow, gentle circles against her shoulders. The Doctor locked eyes with Yaz in the mirror as she drew in a breath and exhaled through her nose. The Doctor just now realized that Yaz most definitely did not have on a bra. 

“Good girl,” the Doctor murmured, still watching her. Yaz’s mouth fell open a bit at the praise and she felt a blush creep up her chest. She squeezed her thighs together as she heat stoked at her core. _Oh god_ , she thought, _that is something I wasn’t counting on_.

The Doctor started talking through what she was doing, her eyes mercifully falling from Yaz’s to focus on her back. “I’m going to start with your sternocleidomastoid, levator scapulae, your semispinalis, and trapezius muscles. That’s this bit here,” and she moved her fingers to Yaz’s throat, rubbing her thumbs against both sides of the back of Yaz’s neck, up to her hairline, then down to the top of her tank top, just at the center of her back. Yaz fought down a whimper as she felt her nipples stiffen.

“Remember to keep taking deep, slow breaths.” The Doctor said, keeping her voice low and soft. With that, she began working her fingers into the knots and straining muscles, releasing the tension methodically. She worked quietly for long minutes, moving Yaz back and forth against her deft hands like she was kneading dough. She whispered absentmindedly as she squeezed and stroked. Yaz’s pain was melting away under the Doctor’s attentions and she was left in a dreamy haze.

“Goodness me, you’re so tense. Feel this right here, that’s a particularly tough spot, right where one muscle meets another. Let me just…” The Doctor increased the pressure against Yaz’s back on the right side, close to the blade of her shoulder bone, using the heel of her hand, and Yaz let out a happy grunt. She could get used to this.

“That feels amazing, Doctor,” she sighed out. The Doctor glanced to the mirror to see Yaz’s eyes fluttering shut, her neck canted back. Her mouth was open and her breathing had become heavier. The Doctor inched her body closer to the younger woman.

“Why do you strain yourself so, Yaz?” she asked, watching Yaz in the mirror. Yaz’s eyebrows pinched together. The Doctor rubbed comforting circles into her lower back and up under her arms, loosening the muscles there. Yaz blinked slowly under the care, wanting so much to confess her longing.

“Because,” she said, hesitating, “because I have to keep up with you, don’t I? Someone’s gotta have eyes on you, keep you safe, yeah?” she trailed off, weakly, wilting into the Doctor’s fingers.

“Oh, Yaz. You don’t have to keep me safe. That’s my job, innit?” she breathed against Yaz’s neck and ghosted a kiss to her temple. Yaz hummed in response.

“I need to get a bit of a grip for this next bit,” The Doctor mumbled, and Yaz sighed again as firm hands grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against the Doctor’s front. Yaz could feel the hard points of the Doctor’s breasts. She squeezed the Doctor’s knee, her hand still resting there. Her clit was throbbing now and she had a feeling her wetness might be worryingly visible. She couldn’t muster the energy to care.

The Doctor watched the mirror, enraptured by Yaz’s increasingly distracted state. She snaked her left arm around Yaz, brushing her fingers against the thin tank top, just below Yaz’s breasts. She dipped her other hand to the bottom of Yaz’s top, behind her back, and started rubbing firmly against the muscle at the top of her hip – it was particularly tight and strained. Yaz groaned loudly. Pressing and massaging with the flat of her fingers, the top rode up, and the Doctor was touching her bare, sensitive skin. Her head tilted so she could see the reflection as she worked, and her hand on Yaz’s stomach began tracing light patterns there. She faltered for a moment when Yaz’s hand dropped to the Doctor’s other leg and began moving up and down, in the same rhythm as the Doctor’s hand at her back. Her breath hitched.

Yaz was in heaven. She badly wanted to touch her breasts, or wrap her hand around the Doctor’s neck, or reach behind her and grab the woman’s arse, but her brain couldn’t make a decision and settled instead on touching the Doctor’s legs. The Doctor was moving her hips subtly against Yaz’s back, and Yaz let her head fall back onto the Doctor’s shoulder, shivering under the sensation.

“Mmmm,” Yaz hummed, lost in the feeling.

The Doctor made a decision and ran her left hand up and under Yaz’s top, her palm flat against Yaz’s ribs, just below her left breast. She stroked her thumb across the underswell and Yaz sighed softly, her hips flexing forward.

The Doctor turned her mouth to the younger woman’s offered throat and touched her lips gently to the racing pulse there. Yaz whimpered, and her hands shifted up to the tops of the Doctor’s thighs, clutching urgently.

“Yaz,” she purred against her skin, “open your eyes and look at the mirror.” The Doctor shifted her lips slightly as Yaz raised her head just enough to see. The Doctor’s hand on her torso felt like a firebrand. Her mouth was hot against Yaz’s throat. She was panting quietly. Yaz watched through heavy-lidded eyes as the Doctor’s right hand joined her left up under Yaz’s shirt. 

The Doctor shifted both hands up at once, cupping Yaz’s breasts and circling them, massaging tenderly, plucking nimbly at Yaz’s nipples, so hard in her arousal. She watched Yaz’s face crack open and her desire ratchet up exponentially. The Doctor’s own sex was soaked; she could feel the slickness building, something she hadn’t felt to this extreme before. She pressed against Yaz’s body heat and she growled low in her chest.

“Doctor!” Yaz whined, her voice climbing as the Doctor pulled Yaz’s earlobe into her mouth, keeping her eyes on Yaz’s in the mirror. She sucked slowly, her hands twisting Yaz’s nipples. Her fingers threaded the hard nubs, squeezing.

Yaz’s eyebrows twisted together and her eyelids drifted down. She leaned heavily against the Doctor, wanting all the contact she could find. 

The Doctor tongued the shell of Yaz’s ear, stopping to husk into it coarsely, “Yaz,” her name like a hurried, insistent prayer on the Doctor’s lips, “I…I need to fuck you.” She stared at Yaz in the mirror as Yaz’s nostrils flared and she nodded desperately. Yaz finally moved her hands back and grabbed the Doctor’s hips and bum, grinding her own hips back into the Doctor’s pussy. 

“Please, Doctor,” Yaz panted. She relaxed her grip and grabbed the hem of her tank top, pulling it off and over her head in one swift motion, even catching the Doctor in the face with the fabric.

The Doctor’s mouth opened in want as she took in the arresting sight of Yaz in the mirror, her chest heaving, her delectable breasts on full display.

“Oh,” The Doctor ground out, and one hand dropped to Yaz’s shorts, not stopping as she slipped underneath, dragging her fingers through Yaz’s unbelievably wet folds. Yaz grunted.

“So, so wet. All for me,” The Doctor whispered, her blonde hair mussed from Yaz’s top, and Yaz turned her head then, capturing the Doctor’s lips with her own, her tongue swiping into the Doctor’s open mouth. Both women moaned loudly. The Doctor’s hand moved frantically, circling against Yaz’s clit, the muscles standing out on her forearm as she worked, and Yaz’s hips surged into her hand, humping mindlessly.

The Doctor broke the kiss and pinned Yaz against her forcefully, turning Yaz’s head to the mirror with gruff fingers against her face, as she pushed two fingers inside Yaz’s needy cunt, her fingers working inside her pajama shorts. Yaz made a noise she’d never heard before, a kind of yowl that stirred her into a frenzy. She grabbed onto Yaz’s breast with her left hand, pawing roughly, and continued pistoning her fingers in and out of Yaz. Yaz felt like she was being rung like a bell, played like some instrument only the Doctor knew how to play. Her body was rolling like a wave, and she panted and moaned wildly. The Doctor’s fingers inside her filled her, stretched her, and Yaz pulled her legs up and rested them against the Doctor’s knees, needing more contact.

The Doctor tilted her head and latched her mouth against Yaz’s neck, just below her ear, and Yaz froze, her whole body tensing at once, and she felt herself come like she’d never before, twitching and writhing in ecstasy. The Doctor’s fingers inside Yaz slowed gradually, bringing her down from her high.

“Remember to breathe, Yaz,” the Doctor rumbled against her neck, and Yaz felt all the tension leave at once in one long gusty moan, her body relaxing into the Doctor’s steady grip. The Doctor smiled into Yaz’s hair, finally getting to inhale the heady scent there. She placed a kiss reverently at the top of her spine as her fingers slipped out from Yaz’s shorts.

Both women breathed deeply, slowly, and Yaz started to giggle languidly, almost drunkenly. 

“Doctor,” she said, in wonder. This was something Yaz hadn’t expected, this quick intimacy. The Doctor always kept herself at arm’s length. She felt honored. Trusted. 

She turned in the Doctor’s arms and kissed her wetly, dreamily. She pushed the Doctor into a prone position and straddled her hips. The Doctor’s hands stroked Yaz’s stomach, and she watched Yaz, a dopey expression plastered on her face. Yaz’s beautiful brown skin looked positively radiant in the low light of the room.

“Gods you’re stunning, Yaz,” she sighed, “I’ve…been hit by a stun gun, me,” and she started laughing silently. Yaz was smiling, looming over her. 

Yaz bit her lip, bent, and touched their lips together briefly. “Doctor,” she said, her voice warm, “have you, uhm…has anyone, has anyone…uh, oh shite,” she paused briefly, huffing a breath, steeling herself for her next words. She was weirdly jealous before she even spoke.

“Has anyone made love to you in this…in your body yet?” she asked. She could feel her cheeks heating under a self-conscious flush.

The Doctor’s mouth twitched, “when in the world would I have had the time?” she exhaled. Yaz watched her. She so wanted to make the Doctor feel new things. She felt like an explorer, charting a new world. 

Yaz leaned over the Doctor, biting her lip and smiling, “you have a time and spaceship, don’t you Doctor?” She brushed her nose against the Doctor’s face, placing a kiss there, nuzzling.

The Doctor grinned and nodded. “Ten points to Yaz,” she smiled languorously, “but no, I haven’t yet, in this body.” 

“May…may I?” Yaz asked quietly, pulling back to look the Doctor in the eyes.

The Doctor looked at Yaz, so considerate and thoughtful, her big dark eyes watching her, and was overwhelmed by how these humans came through for her again and again. She was unworthy; but then she saw the earnest, careful expression on Yaz’s face and she bobbed her head. 

“There’s no one else I would want,” she said simply.

Yaz shifted her body to lie fully against the Doctor, who was still fully clothed. The sensation rendered Yaz wobbly for a second. She smiled and kissed the woman, focusing on the time lord’s reactions. The Doctor sighed happily. She stroked the Doctor’s hair, massaging her scalp. The Doctor’s eyes slipped shut. Yaz grinned affectionately; she was going to enjoy this. They both were.

Yaz reached down and lifted the Doctor’s shirts, catching her cloth bra as well, pulling everything over her head and off, stroking the dazzling white flesh of her stomach as she exposed her skin to the air. She pressed a quick kiss to her sternum, between pale, lovely breasts that Yaz was sure she could stare at for hours if she had the chance.

She moved up and kissed the Doctor’s lips again, drawing her tongue over the woman’s mouth for a moment before dropping to her neck, laving the skin there. The Doctor sighed again loudly and pushed her neck into Yaz’s mouth. Yaz had to work to concentrate. She needed to be gentle. 

Yaz slid down, looked up at the Doctor briefly, saw she was watching her, and drew her right nipple slowly into her mouth. The Doctor slapped her hand onto the bed. This was something she hadn’t felt before.

“Oh god. That’s,” she groaned, “I’m so sensitive!” she squeaked as Yaz tugged on her nipple with her mouth, sucking lightly.

Yaz took the moment to shift her thigh between the Doctor’s legs and the Doctor immediately whimpered, rocking her hips against Yaz. Yaz realized the control she had here and she felt light-headed. She moved her hips away and the Doctor started to protest until Yaz touched her finger to the Doctor’s lips and dropped the other hand to the Doctor’s trousers, struggling to undo the clasp. The Doctor grabbed the hand against her lips and sucked the finger into her mouth.

Yaz snarled, trying to wrestle the Doctor’s pants off, struggling with the delicious sensation of the Doctor’s tongue wrapping around her finger.

“Stop that!” Yaz yelped. “I’m trying to focus.” The Doctor released her finger with a guilty smirk, her pupils widened with longing.

Yaz undid the clasp and dragged The Doctor’s trousers and pants off in one firm swipe, tossing them behind her. 

The Doctor took the moment to snatch at a few pillows behind her, stuffing them against her back and propping herself up. She wanted to see everything.

Yaz lifted an eyebrow accusingly. The Doctor bit her bottom lip, sheepish under the scrutiny.

“What?” she said defiantly, “I’m curious!” she shrugged, blushing prettily. Yaz laughed.

“Ever the scientist, eh, Doctor?” and she darted up to kiss the Doctor’s lips briefly before shifting down, placing long, deep kisses to the Doctor’s breasts, sucking and teasing, lavishing affection until the Doctor’s hips started to shift against her urgently. Yaz smiled against the Doctor’s skin and moved down farther, placing soft kisses in a line on her stomach, over her hipbone and down to her inner thigh, blowing intentionally deep breaths into the sensitive skin there. She wanted the Doctor used to her, of a sort. She settled between her legs. 

The Doctor watched Yaz, her head bent down and observing intently. Yaz winked impishly.

She spread the Doctor’s legs, moaning lowly as the Doctor was laid open before her, her pale, wet sex making Yaz dizzy with her scent. She pursed her lips, blew another long breath directly over the Doctor’s clit, and watched the Doctor’s eyelids flutter.

Yaz used her hands to spread the Doctor open even more, stroking her glistening labia in a slow rhythm with her fingers and thumbs, moving down to her entrance and back up, shifting the skin and the increasing slickness, blowing short breaths against her, her mouth moving closer to the Doctor’s center. She kissed her inner thigh softly, letting her tongue roam, tasting the Doctor’s arousal. The Doctor’s hands clutched helplessly at the bedspread, her fists clenching into the material. 

“Yaz, please,” the Doctor whined piteously. Her hands crept up to the back of Yaz’s head. Yaz had been waiting for this sign.

Yaz inhaled deeply and swiped her tongue in one long pass up the Doctor’s slit, ending by circling her clit. She watched the Doctor from hooded eyes the entire time. 

The Doctor’s mouth hung open in stupefaction. She was panting wantonly. The Doctor was overwhelmed. She’d experienced sex in her old bodies, but this was something entirely new. A guttural noise erupted from deep within her, surprising herself and Yaz.

“Yaz, oh gods, keep doing that. Yaz,” she croaked pleadingly, her words lodged in her throat, the tension of her body locking them there.

Yaz hummed and she sucked lightly on the Doctor’s sensitive bud, watching the Doctor’s eyebrows tighten. The hand in her hair gripped harder. Yaz wished she had two mouths so the other could be kissing the Doctor’s earnest, frowning lips.

One of Yaz’s hands pressed against the Doctor’s stomach, low over her pubic bone. She increased the weight there with the heel of her hand, her tongue applying mounting pressure to the Doctor’s clit. 

The Doctor could barely keep a thought in her head, so amazing were the sensations Yaz was bestowing on her. She pressed a hand against her mouth and keened. 

Yaz’s other hand had drifted down, and she pressed a knuckle against the Doctor’s cunt, and moaned again when she felt the muscles fluttering intently.

She eased her index finger into the Doctor, only the pad of her finger, and rubbed with a firm pressure. She lavished attention on the Doctor’s clit all the while, her jaw muscles aching. She had an increasing need to touch herself.

Yaz lifted her face, and the Doctor gasped as she saw Yaz’s face slick with her own want. 

“I want you to touch your breasts, Doctor. Touch them while I make you come.” Yaz said. The Doctor swallowed thickly. She moved her hands dutifully and started to pull on her nipples. Yaz smirked.

“Ready, Doctor? And don’t you dare be quiet,” Yaz purred. She was still pressing the heel of her hand against the Doctor, and her other finger inched slowly into the Doctor’s wet heat, her sex grabbing at Yaz’s finger.

“Oh fuck,” Yaz groaned, and she started to move her finger in and out, crooking it up, seeking out the Doctor’s sweet spot. She added a second finger, unable to pace herself. She pushed into the Doctor, watching the time lord’s face winch into a picture of happy distress.

Their eyes locked and the Doctor’s hands were rough against her breasts. She couldn’t stop her hips from rocking to meet Yaz’s fingers, wouldn’t stop even if she could. 

“Yaz! It’s…ungh…it’s so good. I didn’t know, how, how, how---“ she rambled. She didn’t get to finish her sentence as Yaz’s mouth dropped again to the Doctor’s clit and sucked hard, her fingers quickening, bending to press hard inside her.

The Doctor felt like someone whacked her over the head; she came so suddenly and violently and she yelled louder than she thought possible. Her body tried to bow out, her breasts tilting into the air, but Yaz had trapped her down on the bed with her strong hands.

Yaz watched as the Doctor’s mouth dropped open farther than she thought possible, her skin mottling red up over the Doctor’s chest, all the way to her ears. She released the Doctor’s clit and slowed her fingers before pulling them out gradually, rubbing around the Doctor’s pussy gently, bringing her back to earth. Earth. Yaz laughed softly. As if anything this spectacular could happen on earth. The Doctor’s breasts lifted with each labored breath. Her own hands had fallen away and lay open on the bed. 

Yaz placed a kiss into the Doctor’s humid thigh, and shifted up her gorgeous body so she was level with the Doctor’s face. The time lord’s eyes were scrunched closed. 

“All right?” Yaz whispered into her ear. She bent and kissed the Doctor’s neck delicately. She didn’t want to disturb what the Doctor was feeling.

The Doctor struggled to form words; so many emotions were swamping her system. She opened her eyes and saw Yaz, her beautiful dark eyes watching her. The Doctor moved a hand to her cheek and pulled her into a slow kiss. 

Yaz gripped the pillows under the Doctor’s back and nudged them away so they were flat on the bed. She shifted to lay by the Doctor’s side, and they both just breathed against each other. Yaz nudged her leg in between The Doctor’s, and she traced patterns with her nails over the Doctor’s stomach and ribs.

“So,” Yaz said, huffing a breath into the Doctor’s neck, “how does the Doctor think that experiment went?” Yaz suckled on the Doctor’s earlobe. 

“Yaz,” The Doctor hummed, “that was amazing. I weren’t prepared for the massage to go that way, honest.” she reached over and grabbed Yaz’s shoulder. Yaz laughed into her neck.

“I don’t think either of us expected that,” Yaz muttered, placing a long kiss against the Doctor’s pulse. 

Yaz paused, “Uhm, Doctor?” she said uncertainly.

The Doctor’s worry ratcheted up quickly. She couldn’t bear to think she did harm to this miraculous human. “Yes, Yaz? Everything ok? I didn’t hurt you did I?” The Doctor shifted away from Yaz so she could see her face. Yaz was grinning and the Doctor relaxed immediately. She grinned back.

“I think I might need another massage now,” Yaz murmured. Her eyes held the Doctor’s, thick with meaning.

The Doctor’s eyelids lowered as her eyes fixed on Yaz’s lips. 

“I think I can manage another,” she whispered.


End file.
